"It's to be impromptu, mamma," entreated the Miss Jamiesons in agitated whispers. It had been decided between them that Gracie, as the youngest of the party, should exclaim suddenly, as if by some happy inspiration, "I vote we dance;" and that then in a perfectly easy and natural manner guests and entertainers alike should, with the utmost friendliness, help to push back the tables and chairs into the lilac bushes, and that then the musicians should be hastily summoned from the kitchen, where they were to have tea. Before that time arrived the unfortunate Mrs. Jamieson had, as one might say, almost skimmed the cream off the whole thing. Her nervousness would not allow her to rest, and in the end she had established the musicians in the three chairs so artlessly prepared for them under the chestnut-tree; and there they were with fiddle and concertina long before Gracie had found an opportunity for making her impromptu suggestion. Their sudden appearance, one could not but feel, detracted from the unprepared effect that had been intended, and they stood waiting to begin with quite a forlorn appearance until the Pirate, for whom the arrival of the hour means the arrival of the man (if the Pirate is anywhere about), called out in his loud tones, "Strike up, you fellows, and let us have a dance!" and the very next moment the white drill suit and the gold-laced cap of Kennie might have been seen in the middle of the lawn. He gallantly seized Mettie round the waist and scattered the guests by the onslaught and the fierce charge he made upon them, and soon had cleared a space in which he footed it gaily. The Higginses, who had been rather shy during the reception, hastened to find partners, and warmed to the occasion at once. Young Abel Higgins, the handsome young farmer from Dorming, said it was the pleasantest entertainment he had ever been at. "There is no cliquism about it," he remarked. "You just say to a girl, 'Will you dance?' and up she comes; it doesn't matter if she's a lord's daughter!"
Mr. Swinnerton devoted much of his attention and his conversation to me during the afternoon. He discussed what he calls "military matters" at great length, pointing out the mistakes of every general in South Africa, at the same time clearly stating what Mr. Swinnerton would have done under similar circumstances, and lamenting the inefficiency of the War Office. Later in the afternoon, however, when he found me where, as I hoped, I had effectually concealed myself behind a laurel bush, Mr. Swinnerton plunged heavily into the question of marriage; and this, as Maud would say, was surely a very hopeful sign. I was disappointed, however, to find that his views regarding the happy state of matrimony seemed to have been made almost entirely from one point of view, and that point of view himself.